


Reverse AU Detroit: Become Human

by DetroitBecomeCucumber



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Backround tho, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor Needs A Hug, Hank needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Reverse AU HankCon, Reverse AU Reed900, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, They all need hugs, first fic, reed900, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 03:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetroitBecomeCucumber/pseuds/DetroitBecomeCucumber
Summary: Follow HK800 and Connor Anderson as they track down Deviants, and hopefully gain a bit of Deviancy along the way...





	Reverse AU Detroit: Become Human

**Author's Note:**

> Basically Detroit: Become Human, except reversed. Expect Semi-HankCon in later chapters!! It may develop into something more romantic as the chapters go on. Maybe.

Connor huffed as he walked into the office, sitting down at his desk and putting out the cigarette he was smoking in the ash tray. He rubbed his forehead, his elbows leaning against the desk. He closed his eyes, a headache pounding sharply against his temple. Nines walked over, rubbing Connor’s shoulder. “Brother, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Another one of your migraines?” 

Connor sighed and nodded, glancing up at him. “Yeah...yeah, ‘s just that, and the whole damn thing with that fucking HK800...” He said. “He totally babies me all the time!” He continued, leaning up, but he groaned and just held his head again. Nines dug through some nonprescription pain killers on Connor’s desk and shook out four ibuprofen onto his palm, holding them out for him. “Thanks, Nines...” He sighed and took them straight. Nines rubbed his back. “It’ll get better, Con. He’s just worried about you.” He said. 

“He’s not supposed to worry! That’s a human thing, he’s not supposed to do that!” He said, waiting eagerly for the ibuprofen to kick in as he sat slouched in his chair, squinting at the light from the precinct. 

“He was assigned to you. Face it, Connor. You don’t treat yourself very nicely.” Nines said, pulling a chair up and sitting next to him. Connor shrugged. “Yeah? So what’s your point? He’s a prototype detective! Built for investigations ‘n shit.” He said. 

“Well, he’s built with more things than just that. Like I said before, he was assigned to you, so of course he’s going to nag you about how little you eat, how much you smoke, y’know, things like that.” Nines explained, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair.

“Well, He sure does a damn fine job at it.” Connor rolled his eyes, taking a cigarette from the packet and lighting it. There was no use telling him that smoking wasn’t prohibited, who was really going to stop him? Nines was about to say something when he saw the droid in question walking up. 

“Ah, Hank. You’re here. Right on time.” Nines stood up, rubbing Connor’s shoulder, still looking at the android. “Tread easy, Tiger’s grouchy this morning.” He teased and patted Connor’s back as we walked away. 

“Hah, hah, hah.” Connor glared half heartedly at Nines’ back, rolling his eyes and letting his eyes shut as he took a drag from the cigarette. 

“Lieutenant, you’ve smoked a total of 7 cigarettes this morning, and it’s only 8:30.” Hank said, his expression stern. “Well, yeah. Did you expect any less?” Connor huffed, opening his eyes just enough to look up at him. 

“Actually, I expected more, but it’s still very unhealthy for your lungs.” Hank said, watching him take another drag and blow it in his direction, and he almost went off on a lecture about how he doesn’t need to breathe, or smell, or about how rude these actions were; he decided it wasn’t really worth it. 

“Well, does it look like I really give a damn? I’m trying to kill myself faster over here, tin-man.” Connor said, putting the cigarette out in the ash tray. Hank walked over to his own desk, which was bare and neat. Connor glanced up at him and huffed quietly. Hank looked over at him. 

“Lieutenant, when will we head out to the scene concerning the Deviants?” He asked, obviously eager to go out and chase them down. Connor leaned back in his chair, tapping his foot against the floor and looking at Hank, the droid’s expression was blank, his LED cycling yellow. 

Connor squinted a bit at him before shrugging and grabbing his glasses and car keys. “Fuck it, let’s go now. Got nothing better to do in this hellhole.” He sighed, watching Hank stand up and follow him outside. Connor got in the driver’s side, looking over at Hank as he entered neatly and nicely, putting his seat belt on and looking around his car. 

“If this is what your car looks like, I’m frightened of what your home looks like.” Hank said, looking over at him. Connor chuckled, shaking his head as he started the car. 

“My dog lives there, you think I’m gonna let anything hurt him? Hell no. He’s a spoiled bastard.” Connor smiled, looking down the road. He was thinking about his dog, how he would go home tonight and cuddle with the big lug because after a long days work, he just needed that in his life. 

He zoned off in his own little world, though being very aware of his surroundings and what was going on. Hank was looking out the window of the passenger side, watching the trees along the highway as they zoomed by. They were going to a house where a man had been murdered, presumably by his android that went rogue. He was thinking about this mission, his thoughts getting disrupted by a jolty brake as Connor had pulled into the scene. Hank blinked, looking over at Connor, who looked back. 

“What?” Asked the hardboiled Lieutenant. 

“You need to work on your parking skills.”  
Replied the Prototype Detective. 

Connor rolled his eyes and got out of the car, walking up to a man that Hank didn’t care to analyze. The android got up and out of the car, looking around. He looked over at the man once he felt his cold gaze set upon him. 

“Hey, hey, hey. That thing with you? You know they’re not supposed to be around here.” The man in question said, now facing Connor and crossing his arms over his chest. Connor put his hands in his jacket pockets and glanced over at Hank. 

“‘E’s with me. Don’t worry, he’s a prototype.” Connor teased and walked into the crime scene, stopping and looking over his shoulder when Hank didn’t follow. “Hello? You coming or not?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow. 

Hank straightened up and followed him. “Coming, Lieutenant.” He replied, looking around the scene and seeing how the grass around the house hadn’t been mowed for a good couple of weeks. It was only starting to get a tad chilly, so the grass must’ve not been cut for a few weeks because there wasn’t anyone to cut it. Obviously. 

Hank walked inside the house, watching as Connor covered his nose and shook his head. “God damn, that smells to high heaven!” He hissed, looking around the area. “Yes, it’s quite rancid. We believe the body has been sitting here for probably two- maybe three weeks.” The same man from outside replied, overhearing what Connor had said about the smell. 

“How come no one reported this sooner? Doesn’t he have any neighbors? Anyone else who lives here?” Connor asked, facing the man now as he slowly got used to the disguising dead body smell. “He has neighbors, yes, but they didn’t realize anything was really wrong until they hadn’t seen him come out for a while. But they’re not persons of interest, they’ve already been questioned.”

“Ah, I see. Well I mean, that’s good...I guess. Less people to talk to.” Connor shrugged, beginning to walk around. “Oh, and Hank, you stay close to me and don’t touch anything, got it?” Connor pointed at him, and Hank nodded. 

“Of course, Lieutenant.” He replied, though he did stay in eyesight of Connor, he just wondered around to try and piece together what happened. He walked around slowly, looking at the floor and the walls. He walked through the entry way that connected the living room and the kitchen, seeing chairs and the table completely knocked over and flipped upside down. 

Sign of struggle?

Hank looked up to see a knife rack on the wall, noting how one was peculiarly  
just...missing. He hummed in response to his finding and looked down at the floor, seeing a knife, dried blood stuck perfectly onto it, giving him the murder weapon. He put two fingers down onto it, getting a sample and running some tests on it, confirming it was that of Carlos Ortiz. 

Not that he really needed to. 

Hank stood up straight and started to try and reconstruct what in the world happened. He stood there for a solid two minutes just trying to work it out, soon after, walking into the living room where Carlos was. He kneeled down and examined the wounds. 

28 stab wounds. 

He examined the man’s mouth and found traces of red ice, shaking his head softly as he stood up. He saw the writing  
‘I AM ALIVE’ written in blood, and he walked away from it, wanting to go find Connor, but he was no where around. 

‘Great.’ Thought Hank as he walked back into the kitchen, he was always losing his damn human. He looked over to somewhere in the hall, his LED circling yellow before cycling back to blue. He grabbed a chair and started to pull it over to the attic entrance at the end of the hall. 

“Hank! What the fu- what are you doing?” Connor asked, squinting at him confusedly. “Lieutenant, I’m following a trail.” He explained. Connor groaned and rolled his eyes. “Damn. Damn, damn, damn.” He sighed. “Fine, but don’t get hurt. It comes out of my paycheck, y’know.” Connor joked, watching the droid stand up on the chair and look around inside the attic. Connor shook his head and looked around himself, making sure no one was around to see this crazy mess. 

Hank heard something very faint, like footsteps, but far away. He pulled himself up and out into the attic, squinting at the darkness of it, the only light source being the sun rays that shone through the cracks in the old wood. Hank stood up, though having to lean down a bit to avoid hitting his head. 

There was a bang, and apparently Connor had heard it. “Hank! Get your ass down here this instant!” He hissed, fear lacing his tone of something really being up there.


End file.
